


Heart in a Bubble

by Aquila_Star



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-25
Updated: 2011-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-20 17:17:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquila_Star/pseuds/Aquila_Star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Love fills you with doubts, with uncertainties. Love changes, and it changes you. It grows as you do."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart in a Bubble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eanelinea77](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=eanelinea77).



> First person POV, Canadian!Draco, AU, mer-sex. Also, mermaid obstetrics.
> 
> Beta-ed by noo, 7ofeleven and dizilla. Thanks, ladies!

365

When I first laid eyes on him, I was not impressed. We'd all heard the tales, how he survived the killing curse as a baby, how he defeated He Who Must Not Be Named numerous times before doing away with him completely at the age of seventeen. However, when I finally met him, to say I was underwhelmed would not be an overstatement.

He was a short, scrawny, unkempt thing. His clothes were messy, as was his hair. His glasses were smudged and crooked and his runners...runners, really? I wrinkled my nose at the sight. This is the most powerful wizard of my age? Really?

"Hello," I said, stepping forward. "I'm Draco Noirci, pleased to meet you." I shook his hand cordially; it was only polite.

"Harry Potter," he replied, gripping my hand firmly.

“You can come this way,” I said, leading him toward the dorms. He was here to replace my assistant. She just had to go and get married, the traitor, leaving me in need of, apparently, Harry Potter.

“Thanks,” he said, quietly, in an accent I hadn't heard from anyone in fourteen years, save my mother. She'd left my father when I was eight years old, and fled to Canada. Sure, I was born in England, but I considered myself Canadian. I was, technically...my mother had made sure that I passed my citizenship test when I was fourteen.

“The dorm is here,” I said, directing him into the cramped room where Melisa had lived for the past year. I felt a pang of longing at its empty state. All her pictures and knickknacks were gone. Even that ugly hat she'd insisted on displaying, as if it were a fine piece of art instead of tourist kitsch. But 'Michael bought it for me, when we went to Cuba,' a line I'd heard many a time. Sentimental or not, it was still tacky. There's no accounting for good taste, nor should one let sentiment overcome it. Honestly.

I stood back to allow him entrance into the room, if you could call it that. It was the size of my closet back in Vancouver, but hardships must be endured in the pursuit of science. He shuffled around, tossing his duffel bag on the bed and sitting down, bouncing a bit, like a child.

“Nice,” he pronounced, grinning up at me, eyes bright even from behind those ridiculous glasses.

“I'm sorry it's so small, but space is at a premium here.” I watched as he twirled his wand around, sizing up the space before waving it at his bag. I took a step back, avoiding the clothing that went rushing towards the hangers.

“It's comfortable, actually,” he replied, stuffing the now empty duffel bag under his bunk. He travelled light, apparently. I had a hard time packing myself, too many accessories and too little space. “Where I lived...it wasn't exactly spacious, so compared to that, this is luxury.”

"Oh," I said, a bit distracted by his accent. Listening to him only made me sick for home, to hear my mother's elegant accent.

I looked up and noticed that he was watching me, with a strange, almost appraising look. I straightened my shoulders, taking advantage of my height to regain the upper hand, though he did not seem to notice.

“I'll show you the rest of the habitat, then,” I said, turning and heading toward the common areas, leaving him to follow. He was not at all what I had expected, and I had barely known the man five minutes. Perhaps the next year would not be as bad as I'd anticipated.

348

It was going to be the longest year of my life. Despite his appearance and manner, Potter had proven that he was smart, talented and passionate about what he knew. Fortunately, that included merpeople. Our dome was just off the northern tip of Vancouver Island. Our purpose was to study the creatures inhabiting the underwater cliffs there, using a strange melding of magical and mundane technology. I had grown to love the foggy, windy, rain-drenched climate while I was a student at VISM. A thriving magical ecosystem existed right under the noses of the Muggles, not that there were many of them here. The north island is sparsely populated, making it the perfect location for a magical school, as well as an excellent place for an underwater research facility.

Oh, right: Potter. He may have looked like something someone had dragged out from under a rock, but he was well educated and articulate when it came to our work, and his Muggle education added an interesting perspective that I hadn't thought would make a difference, but it did. And while the research was coming along fetchingly, I could not be so enthusiastic about his social skills.

He was arrogant. Perhaps it was justified, what with killing a dark lord and all, but it was still insufferable. He had no sense of personal boundaries and was as prone to barging into my quarters uninvited as he was to leaving the kitchen in shambles after yet another culinary 'experiment'. He also had a way of asking the really invasive, astute questions, leaving me at a loss for words. Me— speechless! It defied reason.

Life with Potter was unnerving in other ways as well. He insisted that I call him Harry, as vehemently as I refused to do so, and no matter how often I insisted otherwise, he continued to call me Draco, in that rough accent of his that always sent tingles down my spine. My mother's posh, polished accent had never had this effect on me. Thank Merlin for that.

“Draco, there you are!” I nearly leapt right off my seat at his voice. He had a tendency of sneaking up on me, which was infuriating.

“Geez, Potter, warn a bloke, would you?” I said, resettling in my seat and glancing at him. His hair was damp and messy, his skin flushed a rather fetching pink from exertion or hot water, I couldn't tell. His odour gave it away, though. He must have finished checking the wards on the perimeter, and then showered. He was fresh and clean with only a hint of saltwater.

I breathed deeply, unobtrusively, and closed my eyes as he took the seat across from me. He always smelled so damn good.

“What's up?” he asked, rifling through the papers that were spread across the desk in front of me.

“Unlike other people, I'm actually working,” I replied sharply, but nothing I said seemed to get through that thick skull of his.

He snorted, ignoring my reply. “What are you working on?”

I rolled my eyes at him before looking back at my paper. “It's a report on the latest environmental developments,” I said, passing him the sheet I'd just read. “Toxin levels are still rising, as well as temperature...” I was interrupted by a derisive snort. Potter's attitude toward the weather was not exactly a secret.

“Temperature,” I said firmly, glaring at him, despite the fact that he just smiled back at me. “Is still rising, and the continued over-fishing of salmon is having a profound effect on the food chain here. There is also all the logging in the area, and the looming threat of off-shore drilling.”

“It's not looking good for the future of the colony, is it?” he summarized.

I glanced at him from under my lashes, trying not to ogle him too much. “No, it's not,” I replied. “Fortunately, magic can protect them, but only to a point. Eventually, even magic will be unable to counter the effects of the Muggles' idiocy.”

“They're not all idiots,” he said defensively. “What do you have against them, anyway?”

“They're brash, violent, obnoxious and ignorant of the world around them. They don't care about anything but their consumer-driven lives, certainly not the environment that supports them, or the other creatures who reside in it.” I picked up another report, scanning the page for anything that might shed some light on how to maintain the colony safely.

“Alright, alright, I see your point,” he said, throwing up his arms in defeat and then leaning forward in his chair, arms splayed out on the table between us. His hands were strong and masculine, callused, with rough, chewed-down nails, but something about them... I couldn't help but want them on my skin. I was getting distracted again. This had to stop.

“Leave that,” I said crossly, tugging a few papers from his grip. I had found that getting angry at him helped to alleviate some of my attraction. Only some, but it was enough.

“You're in quite a mood today,” he stated, staring plainly at me. “You need to relax. Leave this. Come play something with me. I've got the cards,” he said, holding up the package and waving it at me.

“I'm not in the mood for cards, thank you,” I said, glaring at him. “I have to finish this.”

He sighed dramatically, sitting up straight in his chair before kicking off and leaning back on two of its legs. Honestly, he was like a child.

“You need to relax,” he said again.

“You've already said that,” I pointed out. “However, you're wrong. I'm fine.” I picked up another sheet of paper and began to peruse it, pointedly ignoring him.

“If you say so,” he replied, righting his chair and standing. “I'm going to get something to eat, do you want anything?”

I looked up at him. He looked so earnest, standing there, and I couldn't ignore him. Besides, he was a fabulous cook. “Sure,” I said, and his smile was my reward.

“Say that again,” he prompted, grinning at me.

“What?” I asked, looking up at him in surprise.

“Sure,” he said, waving a hand at me. “Your accent, it's great.”

“Please,” I scoffed, attempting to send him a withering look. From his reaction, I was not successful. “I don't have an accent.”

“Neither do I,” he said. “I'm British, but your Colonial accent is adorable.”

“You're nuts,” I said, unable to hold back a grin. He was so engaging, I couldn't help myself. “Besides, I'm British too.”

“Are you certain?”

“I'm sure,” I said, instantly realizing that he'd manipulated me into saying it. His brilliant smile was worth it, though.

“Ha!” he exclaimed, doing a little victory dance. It was utterly childish and ridiculous, a part of him that showed up occasionally. “I win!” he said, coming around the table to clasp me on the shoulder. The touch sent a ripple of goosebumps down my arms and I shivered.

“Now come on,” he said, still grinning broadly. “I'll whip us up a stir fry.”

I put down the reports and stood. It was pointless to resist him, so why bother? I might as well have fun with him. “Sure,” I said saucily, winking at him, noticing and rejoicing in his resulting blush. Another thing I had discovered, Potter blushed like a girl when I flirted with him. Straight boys were so much fun to tease.

Damn Potter.

303

The weeks drifted by, the pace of life as serene as the currents that surrounded our environment, though that could change in a heartbeat. For now, it was peaceful, so I had plenty of time to contemplate Harry. The desire for him was growing, coming over me in surges. I'd be fine for days, a week even, and then it would hit me suddenly. I had long ago realized that he was much better looking than I had first judged him. The ever-present glasses were a distraction, but one soon became accustomed to them, and began to see beyond. I'd never seen eyes like that: they were greener than the water and flashed with every emotion under the sun.

Then there was the hair. It looked like a coarse tangle... but I knew from when he'd brushed against me that it was soft, almost as silky as my own. The cheap product that had taken up residence beside my own specialty products worked better than I had been told they should. The cheap soap he used was a bargain as well, because he smelled amazing. In such close quarters, it was almost impossible to ignore.

It didn't help that his clothes, while rumpled and often dotted with the evidence of his last meal, fit him well, stretching to reveal glimpses of pale skin and surprising amounts of muscle. He looked scrawny, but he wasn't...he was all lean muscle and dark hair.

All told, he's exceptionally appealing.

And it's been wearing away at me. Barely nine weeks in and I was ready to pounce on him. I'd spent a year down here with Melisa and had wanked maybe once or twice a week. Admittedly, she was the wrong gender and as such, was hardly going to arouse any excitement in me. If I tried I could make the case that any male in the vicinity would get a rise out of me after being so deprived of masculine company, but the fact is, that wasn't the problem.

The problem was Harry Potter was starting to drive me crazy. I'd gone from wanking twice a week to at least twice a day. He was guileless when it came to flirting: he blushed, but brushed it aside. Occasionally I thought he might be interested, but then his mood changed and he was distant once more. I couldn't figure him out and as a result, I was on edge, all the time. My only hope for a reprieve was during our occasional leave.

Fortunately for my nerves, he'd been on leave for the last few days. He was due back today, and my nerves were shot all over again. The peace while he'd been gone was about to end. I was as excited about it as I was nervous. Against my will, I had missed him.

The day passed with excruciating slowness. I managed to keep busy, following my normal routine and adding a few things that had been overdue. I spent longer than normal making the rounds outside the environment, all in an attempt to keep my mind off the fact that Harry was on his way home. And the fact that I was thinking of it as home, now that Harry was here, was scaring me. I'd spent a year here with Melisa, enjoying her company but never considered the habitat as home. Home was where I'd go when my two years were up. It was odd, how comfortable I was living with him, despite my nerves.

After I came back inside the dome, I showered, dressed, and found myself spending far too much time in front of the mirror. I forced myself away, turning to cleaning up, not that the place needed it. Neatness was necessary: there wasn't much room here. I was in the kitchen, putting together a meal when finally, though it seemed like several days had passed instead of just one, the wards notified me that Harry's Portkey had arrived.

I finished up what I was doing...I had already decided that I wouldn't go meet him, I'd let him come to me. It's not like he was a new recruit anymore, and I was determined not to give in to my urges. I wasn't going to moon over him like some fourteen year old girl. I wasn't a Harry Potter groupie, after all.

I didn't have long to wait.

“Hiya Draco,” Harry said, coming into the kitchen and throwing himself into a chair. “How've you been?”

“Good,” I said, turning to give him a smile. “How was your leave?”

“Alright. I had a good time, Vancouver is a great city,” he said, leaning on the back legs of his chair again. When he inevitably fell on his ass, or his head, I was going to laugh my ass off.

“It is,” I agreed. "It was a great place to grow up." I remembered Wiltshire, but the memories were not very good. I had vivid memories of my father, of rages and yelling and cold, hard silence. I remembered spells cast in anger. And fear. Plenty of fear.

Mother still won't talk about it, or what made her decide to leave, but she did say that Father hadn't always been that way. His devotion to He Who Must Not Be Named had twisted him, and when his Master had been defeated by Harry Potter and vanished, he'd come undone. I don't have any memories of him that aren't connected with fear. I look back now, and I know that the best thing my mother ever did for me was taking me and running away. I've never told her just how grateful I am, but one day, I would.

“How long have you lived there?” he asked.

“Since I was eight,” I replied, turning back to finish up the meal. When it was done I loaded our plates and sat across from him, pushing his plate across the table.

“Thanks,” he said, flashing me a bright smile. I winced as his chair scratched across the floor as it set down.

“So, what did you get up to in my fair town?” I asked, taking a bite and trying to ignore his strong hands fiddling with his cutlery, or the clasp of white teeth behind red lips as he took a bite. I sucked in a breath and prayed for control.

“The usual. Slept in, hit the clubs,” he said, leering at me and leaving no doubt as to what he got up to. I dropped my eyes, unable to hold his gaze, knowing that I was blushing and unable to stop it. Fortunately he didn't seem to notice, still telling his tale.

“Oh, I got a packet of letters from home as well, that was...well, most of it was good, but Hermione sent me some news I'd rather not have heard.”

“Oh?” I said, looking up at him again. He was frowning now, and I hated it.

“Yeah... it's just, well, I should have expected it, but I didn't.” He put down his fork and pushed the plate away.

“That bad?” I asked, gesturing to his abandoned plate. “Tell me.”

“Oh, come on: you don't want to hear about it,” he said, but I did want to hear, and I wasn't going to let him dismiss me. I wanted to be closer to him, I wanted to know what he thought, what he felt. I knew I should hold back, but I couldn't seem to help myself; Harry Potter did weird things to me.

“It's no problem,” I said, pushing my own plate aside to focus on him.

“No, you don't, it's...” he trailed off, so I just gave him my most receptive expression and waited. It didn't take long. “Okay, okay.”

He sighed and pushed back on his chair again, balancing it on two legs like he was born to do it. “Okay, so the thing is, I worked my arse off to do what had to be done during the war, you know? I did things I never thought I'd do and can't help but regret some of them, even though they were necessary. I've lost so many friends, and all the family I had and it was long, hard, and horrible. My teenage years were pretty much just one long fight for survival.

“Besides Voldemort, there was one man who made my life a living hell. He's just pure evil. He was Voldemort's right hand man, so you can imagine. When I was fifteen, he went to prison for breaking into the...oh, never mind, that story would take all night. He's tried to kill me though, repeatedly since I was twelve; that should give you an idea of how I might feel about him.” He stopped to summon a bottle of Butterbeer and took a gulp before going on. Nasty stuff, that. I much prefer my Muggle beer.

“So, he was in prison, then there was a mass breakout, and then he was back at Voldemort's side, killing Muggles and torturing children and just generally being evil. Not to mention a few more attempts on my life and my friends'. He was captured when it was all over, and sent back to prison, for the rest of his life, or so we thought.

“Apparently not. I got a letter from Hermione informing me that he's bought his way out of prison. Did I mention he's rich? And he likes nothing better than to use his no doubt ill-begotten wealth to fund his escape from justice, the arsehole.”

He paused to take another drink while I pondered his use of 'ill-begotten'. It was very unlike him, but whether it's down to my influence or that of his, as I've gathered, nerdy friend, I have no idea.

“I can understand why you're so upset,” I said. It does seem brutally unfair that someone who has been so horrible can get free because he's rich. Justice, indeed.

“If anyone deserves to rot in Azkaban for life, it's Lucius Malfoy. But oh no, he was under Imperius the whole time, you know: he's completely innocent,” Harry said.

My heart stopped. It couldn't be.

“I wonder how much of his blood money it took to get him off this time. See, this is just an example of why I left England. Voldemort may be gone, but it's all so corrupt: I just couldn't stand it. I had to get out,” he continued, oblivious to the fact that my heart had frozen in my chest.

Lucius Malfoy. I hadn't heard that name for years. Not since we'd left England. Did he really say Lucius Malfoy? Could there be two wizards with that name in England? Two rich, evil bastards with the same name? No, it had to be him. I can't believe it.

Harry was still going on about how much he hated England and how happy he was to leave, how horrible the weather was and how no one would leave him alone, but I had been transported back to when I was six and my father had beaten one of the house elves almost to death for a minor infraction. I remembered how terrified I was that he would beat me next; he'd certainly never shown any love for me. I had to be perfect, I had to do everything right, he demanded nothing less from me, and once I'd seen what he was capable of...

I shook my head to clear it. I'd seen worse after that, had discovered that he was capable of even more, but that incident had stuck with me. Suddenly I was glad that my leave was coming soon, that I could spend some time with Mother. Suddenly, I needed her.

“Draco? Draco, are you okay?” The worry in Harry's voice brought me all the way back to the present, and I shuddered under the weight of the past.

“I'm...I'm…” I didn't know what to say. “Alright. I think.” I knew I probably looked like a sheet. I'd always been pale, and British Columbia was not exactly a tropical location. It may be a rainforest, but it was temperate, and the clouds were ever present... I was shaken out of it once more by Harry's voice.

“Are you sure?” he said, his worry evident.

“Yes, I... what was his name again?” My hands were a little shaky, so I clenched them so tight my knuckles were white.

“His name? You mean Malfoy?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Yes,” I said, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Lucius Malfoy?”

“Yeah. What about him?”

I swallowed, though my saliva felt like glue. Damn him for making me feel this way, thirteen years and thousands of miles away.

“He's my father.” I don't know why I told him, instead of brushing off his concern and retreating, but there it was. He was stunned, frozen in place, as if I'd hit him with a spell.

“Your... what?” he asked. “But your last name is Noirci.”

“Actually, it's my mother's maiden name... tweaked and then translated into French. We've used it since we left. Mother said it would be safer that way.” I forced myself to unclench my hands. Lucius couldn't hurt me from here. Would Harry hold it against me, that I was Lucius' son?

“Safer?” Harry was still stunned; I could practically see the wheels in his head turning.

“Malfoy is a rather distinctive name, and she knew he'd look for us. Even all the way to Canada. I'm his only son, after all, and there's an ancient wizarding line to think of. But he's mad, Harry: he's always been mad. Ever since…” I trailed off, struck by just how closely our lives were entwined, Harry's and mine, though we'd never met until a few months ago.

“Ever since Voldemort disappeared,” he finished my thought. We stared at each other for a few minutes, both trying to take it all in. I didn't know where to go from here. Would he hate me now, knowing that I'm the son of his worst remaining enemy? How far did that hate go, and how strong was it?

“How old were you?” he asked, quietly.

“When we left? I was eight,” I replied.

“Oh,” he said. “That would explain the accent, then.” He grinned at me, and I couldn't help but grin back, the tension draining a bit.

“You're the one who has an accent,” I insisted, but he just laughed.

“Sure, sure,” he drawled, attempting to draw out the word in some semblance of Canadian diction. I threw a piece of broccoli at him; the mood defused, thankfully.

"I'm glad you got away," he said sincerely.

"Me too," I replied, pulling my plate back. "Now eat up, there's plenty to do before I leave, we should get started right away." He nodded and followed my lead, tucking into his meal. I put Lucius out of my mind, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he crept back in, the bastard.

271

Campbell River is a reasonably sized city. It has nothing on Vancouver, but then again, that's part of the reason I like it so much. Sometimes Vancouver can be overwhelming, especially after the peace and solitude of the Cape Scott habitat. I'd learned that going back to Van just for three days was a bit of overkill, and hardly a vacation.

I arrived by Portkey and was soon checking into the Discovery Inn. It was my mother's favorite, right in the middle of downtown. I was looking forward to seeing her; it had been a few months since she'd been out to visit me on my leave. And considering the weight of Lucius on my mind ever since Harry had returned, the visit was even more welcome.

I got to the suite and collapsed on my bed, not even bothering to unpack. I just didn't want to face anything yet. Besides, Mother would no doubt harangue me about it as soon as she arrived, and that was soon enough. I closed my eyes, letting the stress and high emotions of the last few days roll off me, just breathing in and out, in and...

“Draco?” the voice invaded my dream, bringing me back to reality with a rush.

“Harry? What?” I lurched up, blinking away the sleep to see Mother standing over me, remembering where I was.

“Hi, Mum,” I croaked, relaxing as she ran a loving hand through my hair.

“Hello, Draco,” she said, giving me a smile. “A little tired?”

“Yes,” I replied with a yawn, stretching the sleep out of my limbs. “I didn't get much sleep last night.”

“Were you that excited to see me?” she asked cheekily.

“No, I... don't want to get into it now,” I replied, standing to embrace her. I had long been taller than her, but I still felt like a child when she held me. Safe. No one could make me feel safer, no one had given up so much to keep me so. She uprooted her life, left her husband and everything she knew, sacrificing friends and social standing to keep me safe.

“I'm so happy to see you,” she said, pulling back to look me over. “You're so pale!” she declared.

I laughed. “Of course I'm pale, mother: I've spent the last year and a half under water!”

“Yes, well,” she said, waving the topic away and patting my cheek.

“Mother,” I said, brushing her hand away in annoyance.

“Poor Draco, such a hardship to humor your mother,” she sighed. I laughed again. My mother has the best sense of humor.

“Well, now that I'm awake, let’s go to dinner. I'm starving.”

~*~

“Are you ready to talk about it now?” she asked, as I sipped my coffee. Part of me had been hoping to avoid the topic, but I knew we should talk about it. I needed to talk about it.

“Alright.” I put my cup down, licking the whipped cream off my lip. Baileys and coffee would always be my favorite. “Okay, I've told you that Harry Potter is my partner at the moment.”

“Yes.”

“Right, well, he's fresh from England, of course,” I continued.

“You don't miss it, do you?” she asked.

“No, I really don't. I was too young to remember much, just the fear...” I trailed off. I hadn't been meaning to say that.

“I'm sorry, Draco,” she said, reaching across the table and taking my hand.

“Don't be: you got me out of it.” I squeezed her hand, reassuring her. She sometimes worries that I feel a lack. Of a father, of my home country. I keep telling her, Canada is where I was raised, and I felt no loyalty to England. Nor to my father.

“And you don't even have an accent to show for it,” she replied, winking at me.

“Oh, I do,” I laughed. “According to Harry, I have the most adorable Canadian accent.”

She raised a speculative brow. I shouldn't have said that. She's far too perceptive.

“Really?”

“Yes, but that's not the point,” I said quickly in an attempt to deflect her. For how long was anybody's guess. “The point is, he returned from his leave a few days ago, and he brought with him news from home. News he wasn't happy about.”

“And that news has caused you to lose sleep?” she asked, surprised.

“Yes, he... he knows Father,” I said. She blanched, then shuddered. I understood the feeling.

“Oh,” was all she was able to say.

“His news was bad, he was pretty upset.” I took a deep breath, unsure how to go on, or unwilling. I didn't know. Maybe both.

“He's out of prison. Bought his way out.”

“Well, I'm not surprised he was in prison," she said, staring over my shoulder. “And I'm not surprised he got out. Your father has always been very charming. Persuasive. Unfortunately, he is also...” she trailed off, eyes still unfocused.

“Unhinged,” I finished for her. I knew enough about my father, remembered enough that I was certain of that fact.

“Yes,” she agreed. Silence fell after that. I suppose we didn't know where to go from there. Who would? Father had always been a touchy subject, but to her credit, Mother had never shied away from it. She's always been honest with me, about everything.

We were soon interrupted by the waiter, who successfully broke the mood. I was grateful. I hated bringing it up at all, I hated reviving the bad memories. More hers than mine: she had more of them, no doubt, and remembered them more clearly.

Soon we were out of the restaurant, strolling down the sea walk. It was a beautiful night, the moon just beginning to glow in the sky, vying with the fading sun in the twilight sky. I sighed, breathing in the salty air, feeling grateful once again for this place, to be here with the one person I loved more than any other, safe in this country that had sheltered us.

“So,” Mother said, breaking the silence, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. “Harry Potter, then.”

I cleared my throat, gazing out over the sea to avoid her knowing look. “He's...passable,” I said at last.

“Only passable? From what I've heard, he's much more than that,” she retorted.

“He's good at the job,” I said, still not meeting her gaze. She stopped walking and leaned forward on the rail that separated us from the marina below.

“Is that all he's good at?” she asked, and to my disgust, I blushed. Not that I would know what else he's good at.

“I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Mother,” I replied stiffly, taking a spot on the rail beside her. “So you can just drop it.”

“Well,” she said lightly. “It was worth a try. Is it my fault I want to see you happily settled down?”

“I'm only twenty two,” I scoffed. “I don't need to settle down for a long time yet.”

“I suppose,” she said, and then fell silent. We resumed our walk, a comfortable silence once more falling between us.

269

Ahh, home sweet home. Well, home for now, anyway. The arrival chamber was empty, as I was expecting. It was a relief, really, being able to compose myself before I saw Harry. I had been doing just fine, enjoying my weekend and recharging for the next few months, when Mother had to go and ruin it for me by bringing up the subject of Harry again.

Somehow she had managed to work an admission out of me. Yes, so I fancy Harry a bit. Alright: a lot. Naturally she had to encourage me to go for it. Of course she did: she 'just want to see you happy, Draco'. But statistically speaking, the chance that he was gay... well, I wasn't optimistic. Despite the odd moment between us, he hadn't shown any real interest; that I'd seen, anyway.

Damn her for putting the thought in my head. I took a deep breath, relaxed and cleared my head before heading to the dorm to unpack. There was no sign of Harry, but it was almost time for the daily patrol of the reef, so he was probably in the airlock. I took my time unpacking, trying to gain some kind of equilibrium. With my mother's words ringing in my ears, I set out to find him.

Sure enough, I found him in the wet room, fiddling with the equipment, his wetsuit pulled up to his waist. I took a moment to gaze at him, unable to stop myself. He wasn't very tall, shorter than me, but he was fit. His shoulders were broader than his posture made one believe. Right now, they were on display as he stretched to check the tanks on the shelf.

“Hey,” I said at last, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat and tried again, this time in the face of Harry's smile. “Hi.”

“You're back,” he said, walking toward me and reaching out a hand. I took it, shaking it firmly. He clasped me on the shoulder when we let go, grinning. His hands...no, his entire body was stronger than it looked, lean and wiry and utterly deceptive when it was covered in clothing. But it wasn't right now. His chest was naked, and I was having trouble keeping my eyes on his face. It seemed to happen a lot in this room, when we were dressing and undressing.

'Go for it,' I heard my mother say again. She was not helping.

“I just got in,” I said. “Getting ready to head out?” I looked away from him, taking my eyes off him and glancing around the room.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Are you gonna come with?”

“Sure,” I said, smiling weakly. “I'll just go get changed, then.” I turned on my heel and headed to the changing room. Hopefully by the time I was done, Harry would be dressed and I would be able to concentrate on something besides the smooth skin covering his lean muscles.

I was in luck: he had pulled up his wetsuit by the time I returned, and was testing his air tank. Our equipment was modelled on Muggle diving gear, with a few convenient magical additions. It needed checking every time we went out, both the magical and mundane components.

“So, how was your weekend?” he asked as we double-checked the tanks.

I swallowed, not looking up at his eyes. “Fine, it was fine,” I replied. “Spent some time with my mother; it was rather peaceful.”

“Oh,” he said, looking right at me. I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my neck. “No wild parties? No crazy kinky sex?”

I turned and sent him an incredulous look. “No,” I said simply. “Partying is not my thing.”

“Sure, sure.” He looked at me, right through me, as if he could see all my secrets. I blushed, looking down again and fiddling with my tank some more.

“So, no girlfriend then?” he asked unexpectedly. My gaze shot up to him again, I was shocked. Did he really not know? How could he have missed it?

“You're joking, right?” I asked, zipping up my wetsuit.

“Joking?”

“Yes,” I replied. “How could you not know that I'm gay? Are you really that dense?”

He stared at me appraisingly for a moment before stuttering, “I, uh....no, I didn't...I, um...you're gay?”

I looked at him, certain that my face was portraying my amazement. “Yes. I can't believe you didn't realize.” I chuckled at him, then blushed under the intensity of his gaze. “I'm why the stereotypes are stereotypes.”

“Oh, I didn't...you're not that obvious,” he said.

“If you say so,” I replied, “but you're the first person I've met who hasn't known right away or at least had an inkling. I didn't think I needed to tell you.” I focused on finishing up with my kit.

“Do you have a boyfriend then?” he asked. I swore under my breath. This was exactly where I didn't want to go. Soon he'd be asking me if I fancied anyone.

“No,” I said quickly. “You don't have a problem with it, do you?”

“Oh, no, I...as a matter of fact,” he began, but I cut him off.

“Good, I'm glad that's settled,” I said quickly. “Let's get going then, time's a-wasting.” I pulled my tank onto my back and headed toward the pool in the floor that was our doorway to the reef.

“Draco,” Harry began, but I ignored him, casting the modified Bubble-Head Charm that would allow us to not only breathe, but talk. And hear. Or scratch our nose, if the need struck. The charm kept out water and any sea creature that dared get too close, but allowed hands or other body parts, not that I'd had the opportunity to test that theory, to pass through. Magic is brilliant: I still couldn't fathom how Muggles got on without it. We had charms all over the wetsuit, too. Warmth, pressure, everything.

I waved at him and jumped into the water. The thing about the Bubble-Head Charm was that you couldn't talk or breathe until you were in the water, when the magic pumped air in from the tank. I slid smoothly into the water, several years of daily practice will do that, and headed toward the reef where the merpeoplemade their home.

It wasn't long before I felt Harry catch up, his movements displacing the water directly beside me. He tugged on my shoulder, but let go when I glared at him. Oh, I knew it was irrational, being so cranky just because he was getting close to asking questions I didn't want to answer, but I couldn't help it. Between my mother's admonition and Harry's frank curiosity, I just didn't know how to feel.

I came to an outcropping on the outskirts of the merpeople's territory, a very conveniently placed outcropping. We used several such rock formations to keep an eye on the clan without disturbing them. Oh, they knew we were there and why, but merpeople are a very touchy species, so it's better for all involved if we stayed out of sight most of the time.

“Why don't you want to talk about it?” Harry asked from beside me. His voice was distorted; no matter what spells one used, we were still underwater.

“Because I don't,” I snapped back, the effect ruined by the water.

“That's not a reason,” he replied, so I glared at him out of the corner of my eye. Why wouldn't he just drop it?

“It's all the reason I need,” I said, but he was not convinced, he still wouldn't give it up. “Why are you so curious anyway? You never cared about my love life, or lack thereof, before you found out I was gay.”

“That's because I assumed that you're straight,” he said. Understandable, but what kind of an oblivious ape couldn't tell at first glance that I'm gay?

“So you do have a problem with it?” I declared, turning to face him fully. “Now that you know I'm gay, you're gonna get all freaky and awkward around me, aren't you?”

“No, I won't...well, not awkward,” he said, but before I could figure that one out, something caught my eye.

“Harry, look!” I exclaimed, pointing in the direction of a pair of merpeople, a male and female, frolicking above a field of kelp. It was clear what they were doing: roaming hands and moving bodies were universal, it seemed. We watched them for a few long moments, neither of us breaking the silence. It was grotesquely beautiful, and I couldn't help but be moved. Very few outsiders ever witnessed a pair of merpeople mid-coitus, and we had almost missed it. After a few more minutes, they pulled apart, clasping hands before turning away and swimming in opposite directions.

“Wow,” Harry said, his lips almost touching my ear. I shivered. Apparently I had been too enthralled with the mating merpeople to notice how close he'd moved. “I've never seen anything quite so...amazing and...gross.”

I turned and met his eye, and before long, we were laughing together, still in awe of what we saw. Harry met my eyes and the intensity of his gaze stilled my laughter. He shifted closer still, lifting a hand to my neck, where he rubbed a finger softly across my skin.

“I'm curious about your sexuality, because suddenly it relates to mine,” he said quietly, his voice husky despite the distortion.

“It does?” I rasped back, my brain spinning desperately to decipher his meaning.

“Yes,” he replied, now cupping my neck with both hands, his face mere inches away. I was fast fearing this was some sort of delusional daydream.

“You're gay?” I asked uncertainly. What else could it be, though?

“No,” he said with a chuckle. I jerked back: what kind of game was he playing here?

“I'm bi,” he said simply, grinning widely at me. “And I fancy a kiss, if you don't mind.” He leaned in quickly, and before I knew it, we were kissing. Full-on open mouths, tongues and all, kissing. I was shocked, really shocked: he'd never shown any real sign of being interested but missed signs or no signs, I kissed him back. He wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me closer, so I did the same, hanging on to his shoulders and letting my fingers twine in his hair. I loved it.

He pulled me closer, one of his arms slipped down to my waist, pulling our lower bodies together while the other slid up my back, pressing our chests together as it slid into my hair. His kisses were deep, moving, utterly passionate, and I was swept away. The reef, the water, the merpeople, everything was lost in the excitement of the kiss. My mind was a mess. My mother's admonition still in my ear, the feel of Harry against me, the feelings that had been quietly building in me that I could no longer ignore. It was all crowded in my head, vying for my attention and I was lost.

It wasn't until my hands slid around to his chest in an attempt to remove his shirt that I realized where we were. Our Bubble-Head Charms had merged, allowing us to kiss without drowning, but we were still underwater. I pulled back, far enough to break the kiss, but not far enough that the charms separated. We were still in the same bubble; I could feel his breath on my lips.

“You really want to do this?” I asked in a hushed voice. I was still in awe that it was actually happening and suddenly I needed to hear it from him.

“Hell, yes,” he replied, leaning a bit closer so that his lips almost brushed mine again. “Let's go in.”

~*~

The trail leading from the wet room to the dorm was a bitch to clean up, but it was definitely worth it. Everything came off in our rush to get to a bed, the hall was littered with wet suits and equipment and underwear, all of it. By the time we reached a bed, mine, as it turns out, we were both naked, hard and desperate; grasping at each other with hands and lips, cocks straining and chests heaving. Sex is a messy, awkward business, but suddenly that didn't seem to matter. I finally understood the phrase 'let nature take its course' and I was more than happy to let it.

Harry fell to the bed first, so I crawled up over him, much less seductively than I would like, I'm sure, but the end result was the same. He was under me, the way I had been fantasizing about, almost since the moment I saw him, and it was not something to be rushed. I slowed down, kissing him tenderly instead of violently, turning rough hands into gentle caresses.

Finally, when I could stand it no more, I pulled back, my eyes soaking in the sight of him like I was starving for it. And perhaps I was. He was a vision, all mussed and panting and so utterly beautiful that my chest ached.

“Can I fuck you?” I asked softly, barely daring to get the words out, but needing to know. I was aching to be inside him, to be a part of him, if only he would let me.

“Yeah,” he whispered back. I smiled at him, unable to keep the ludicrous grin from my lips, so I leaned down to kiss him again instead. I wasn't going to pass up this opportunity.

233

The alarm went off while we were in the control room, finishing up a few reports, and I swear, Harry jumped about a foot off his chair. I would have laughed if my heart hadn't been racing and my stomach wasn't lodged firmly in my throat.

“What is it?” I yelled over the klaxon, but Harry was already on it.

“Earthquake off the Queen Charlotte's,” he replied, looking up at me with wide eyes. “Can we turn that damn thing off?”

I waved my wand and silence fell suddenly, leaving us both gasping with relief. The alarm meant business, no doubt about it.

I rushed over to join Harry at the display, taking in as much information as I could.

“6.8 magnitude, it could have been a lot worse,” I said, following the scroll of words as new reports came in.

“It's still too big,” Harry replied, pointing at the tsunami predictor. Oh, it was going to hit, that's for sure, and while it wouldn't be the biggest tsunami ever, it was still going to cause some damage. Especially here, on the unprotected northern tip of the island. We may be under water, but the surge resulting from an earthquake would not be tempered by our location.

Things like this were a large part of why we were here. The planet seemed to be more and more dissatisfied with the way it had been treated, mostly by the Muggles, but wizards like You Know Who had certainly not helped. With all the unpredictable weather, and the high risk of earthquakes and tsunamis in this part of the world, the merpeople would have been forced to flee had it not been for us.

“Wards,” Harry said firmly, and I nodded my agreement. We had to get out there now, before the advancing surge of water could wreak havoc on the mermaid habitat.

We dashed for the wet room, pulling on our wetsuits and tanks as fast as we could, checking each other quickly to be sure all was in working order, before throwing ourselves into the water with no ado. We were racing against a ticking clock, for more than the welfare of the merpeople. Our habitat would likely be damaged as well.

We wasted no time swimming to the ridge at the northernmost point of the mermaid's territory. They hunted and frolicked outside its bounds, but none of them would venture beyond once they felt the quake. They were sensitive like that.

Casting wards was exhausting, but we worked quickly nonetheless. Other than the obvious social need, this was one of the reasons why we needed two people on staff here. Without Harry, it would have taken me three times as long to set the barrier. Working together we were able to accomplish what we needed to in just under a half hour, with little time to spare. When we were done we swam as fast as we could for the hatch into the wet room: being out here when the tsunami hit, wards or no wards, would not be pretty.

I pulled myself up the ladder and collapsed on the floor, panting harshly, gasping at the fresh air that rushed into my lungs when I took down my Bubble-Head Charm. Harry followed, throwing himself down beside me as I struggled to regain my calm.

“Wow...what a...rush,” he panted out, sucking in large mouthfuls of air between words. My breathing had evened out, thankfully, the adrenalin beginning to wear off as I dragged myself closer.

“You're...pretty good with...wards,” he panted, grinning at me in excitement.

“It's a gift,” I replied, right before I swooped down and kissed his breath away all over again. I'd found over the last month that Harry was as horny as me, and certainly no slouch in the bedroom. He was also impossible to resist, but I'd known that for a lot longer than I'd been sleeping with him.

He kissed back hard, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling, rolling me over on to my back. He braced himself above me, his hair and eyes as wild as the sea outside, but unlike the wave, this was all focused on me. When the wave hit, the habitat shuddered, the shaking adding to the sensations rippling through me, bringing us to a climax together. The shaking subsided, in us as well as the habitat, the wave of pleasure abating as naturally as the tsunami.

197

“There you are,” Harry called as he entered the infirmary. I looked up at him, shocked to find him naked in front of me, his cock half hard, hands on his hips. He was leering at me, and I knew just what he wanted. I wasn't going to let him get it so easily, though.

“What do you think you're doing?” I asked, painfully tearing my eyes from his still hardening cock and finely muscled chest.

“What does it look like?” he replied saucily. “Fancy a shag?” He was utterly ridiculous, winking at me like some kind of caricature. He had exaggerated his accent as well, knowing that I found it sexy.

“No!” I exclaimed.

“Why not?” he countered as he stalked closer, his cock bobbing with every step. I swallowed thickly. I could feel my defences begin to slip away, and I knew it had just begun.

“Because it's just not done,” I said. “You can't just wander the habitat naked,” I insisted. He scoffed.

“Why not?” he asked again, lifting a brow. His hands were on his hips again, they might as well be holding a sign that said 'look at my cock. It's right here'. It was very distracting, especially since it was fully hard and pointed right at me.

“There's no one here but us, and I know you love getting me naked," he added with a thrust of his pelvis for emphasis.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and tried to regain some control over my body, which was rapidly responding to the sight of Harry's naked glory. The attempt was voided as soon as I opened them.

He had climbed up onto the table and laid back, propping himself up on his elbows. As I watched he drew up his legs and spread them, bracing them on the edge of the table so that he was open to my gaze, like some kind of pornographic display. His cock was propped up against his belly, a smirk painted on his teasing lips.

“Come on, Draco, it's been a slow week and we're all done the reports. You're just making work. Come and play with me,” he said, gazing at me seductively, and oh, it was seductive. Those eyes, half lidded and staring at me intensely over his erect cock, through the window of his spread legs. God. Who could resist that?

I don't remember how I got from behind the desk to on top of Harry, but suddenly I found myself there. He looked rather smug, but I just kissed the smirk off his face, pressing my erection against him.

“Finally,” he said when I pulled back to take my shirt off.

“Quiet,” I said, silencing him with another kiss. His hands were pulling at my jeans, so I pulled back again and helped him out. I unfastened them quickly, taking time only to push them down to my knees before thrusting forward, pressing my naked cock to his.

We had done this often in the past month, but the thrill never seemed to fade. I kissed him forcefully, pinning his arms above his head, in love with his submission. Stories had reached us, all the way from Britain, of his open defiance of Voldemort, stories of his unwillingness to submit to anyone. But he was so different than the stories, it was a revelation. As if all the tales about him were fanciful exaggerations, especially, as I had discovered, his love of the limelight. In truth, he hated it.

He pulled back after a few minutes, and what a picture he made. His eyes were wide, his pupils blown so that they looked almost black, the green pushed back in a wave of lust. His lips were red and puffy, his hair in a crazy tangle. He was beautiful.

“Fuck me,” he growled, sliding his hands down my back to pull me closer.

“Pushy,” I said, but my patience had fled, he inflamed me like no one I'd ever met before. I slid my hands down his chest, tweaking his nipples. He gasped and then moaned, lifting his pelvis to encourage me, so I gave his cock a few tugs before moving lower to tease his entrance. I wasn't at all surprised to find him slicked and ready for me.

“A little eager, eh?”

“I come prepared,” he said. “Now get on with it.”

So I did. I wasted no time pushing myself into him, and oh, that hot, slick squeeze on my cock was like heaven. I held his thighs down, keeping him spread for me, at the perfect angle to...there it is. I could tell I hit his prostate when he began to moan and pant, his cock twitching and bouncing with each thrust.

It didn't take long for either of us. I'm sure it was longer than a couple minutes, but before I could stop myself, I was coming inside him. I kept on thrusting though, I knew he was close, and sure enough, a few more strokes over his prostate and he came all over his stomach, shuddering enticingly.

I collapsed on top of him, trying to catch my breath, my cock still lodged inside him. I was beginning to think that that is where it belonged. That he is where I belonged. It was too much, too much to think or compute, so I pulled back, turning around to right my clothing.

When I was calm enough to look, Harry was still splayed out on the table, his legs dangling from the edge. I couldn't help my smile: he was such a little kid at times, it's kind of shocking.

“Satisfied?” I asked. He lifted his head up, staring at me from under half lidded eyes, but the smile he wore told me he was better than words could.

“Good, now get out of here so I can get some work done,” I said, stooping to pick up my shirt, and retreating back behind my desk. I was confused and overwhelmed, and I just wanted to be alone.

“Yes, sir,” he said cheekily, sliding off the table and heading for the door. I couldn't resist watching him go, and I swear he put on an extra butt wiggle just for me.

182

It's always so quiet when Harry is gone. I didn't really notice while Melisa was here...when she had leave, I never felt itchy and lonely and horny. Perhaps that last is obvious, but the fact remains, I was missing Harry more than ever. He filled up more than the habitat with his presence.

In this extended quiet, I couldn't help but think about the fuck in the infirmary. I'd been stubbornly ignoring how I felt then, pushing it back more and more every time an encounter brought it to the front of my mind. I couldn't ignore it any longer.

I was beginning to think that I was in love with him. I couldn't know for sure, how does one know when they fall in love? He'd become vitally important to me, faster than I'd thought possible. It was a frightening thing, to be that affected by another person. Especially since our relationship was still so undefined. I knew how I felt, but I still didn't know his heart at all.

We were friends, lovers and co-workers, and each other’s only companion in that desolate place. Beyond that, I was clueless. We often slept together, waking tangled and making love in the mornings. There were times when he held me in his arms, the sweat evaporating from our sated bodies, when I couldn't imagine ever letting him go.

The problem was, I had no idea if he felt the same. He was open and friendly, completely engaging, but his emotions and thoughts were completely locked up. I couldn't help but feel that if I brought the subject up, he would deftly avoid it. Not that I did. I'm certainly not the 'sit down with a cup of tea and share feelings' type of guy, but I liked to think I am a little more open than Harry. He gives the impression of openness, but it's really a mask. What is underneath? There was no way to tell, all I could be certain of was my own feelings.

~*~

  


  


149

“Draco, look!” Harry's hand on my arm made me jump, but I quickly turned in the direction he was looking. I had to close my eyes and open them again, to convince myself what I was seeing was real.

Yet there they were...in all their glory. I could see five mermaids, several of them very old. Their hair was rather impressive as the clan didn't believe that hair should be cut, at all. It was an easy way of judging age, not to mention it made a rather striking effect when it spread through the water behind them. They were gathered in a circle around a youngish-looking mermaid, who was very clearly pregnant.

“Whoa!” Harry exclaimed, in reaction to her belly, which had rippled rather ominously. She let out a wail, a sound that haunts me to this day. It was pure primal agony and determination, and it was as stunning as it was terrifying. Suddenly, her belly rippled again until there, before our eyes, a gill split open, projecting a mess of fluid and tissue into the water.

“Ugh,” I said, pulling back with a look of disgust, which I shared with Harry before turning back to the spectacle in front of us. I was almost certain that I knew what was happening, but I couldn't be sure until...yes, there!

One of the older mermaids reached down into the cloud and plucked out an infant. Harry gasped and grabbed my hand, his grip strong enough to bruise. I pulled his hand off my wrist forcefully, twining our fingers instead, not taking my eyes off the mother and infant. The child was already at its mother’s breast, having used its already strong tail to propel itself into the proper position. The others looked at them with adoration, while the mother looked stunned.

I understood. I felt rather stunned myself. Finally I blinked, looking away to Harry, who was still staring enraptured at the group.

“Harry?” I said, giving his hand a squeeze and trying not to notice how right it felt in mine.

“Mmm,” he replied, still transfixed.

“Come on Harry, we have to get going,” I insisted, tugging him away. “Let's give them some privacy.”

“Oh, okay,” he said, following me back to the dome, his focus clearly still on the mermaids, as his frequent glances back confirmed.

We arrived, climbed in and stripped out of our wetsuits, hanging them up and then checking our equipment. He was still distracted, barely responding to my questions. I could tell the experience had moved him, as it had me.

“Dinner?” I prompted, nudging him with my shoulder as we were leaving the room.

“Sure, sounds great,” he said absentmindedly. “I'll be down there in a few, I just need to...I'll see ya.”

He headed down the corridor toward the dorm, leaving me staring after him.

He joined me in the kitchen before long, and quietly began helping me throw together our meal. We worked in silence, both of us rather preoccupied....he with whatever had got into his head and me with him.

We ate in the same comfortable silence. By the time I was done, I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to know what was bothering him, but I knew he would never volunteer. Asking wouldn't be enough: I'd probably have to drag it out of him. He was remarkably stubborn, a trait that had no doubt served him well during his life, but I was more persistent than he was stubborn.

"What is it?" I asked, having pushed my plate away and settled back in my chair. He looked up at me questioningly and then shrugged.

"What is what?" he replied.

"Whatever it is that's been bothering you since we saw the mermaid give birth. You've been rather...distracted," I explained, pinning him with a firm look. "So what is it?"

"Oh, it's, uh...it's really nothing," he said, pushing his chair back and then taking both our plates to the sink.

"Come on, Harry, I know something's weighing on your mind. Tell me. After all, there's no one else to talk to here," I said, my eyes tracking his progress across the room. He left the dishes and went to the fridge, taking out a bottle of beer and holding it up in offer. I nodded, so he took two. He opened them both before finally coming back to the table, sliding a bottle to me.

"Cheers," I said, lifting the bottle in salute before I took a long pull on it. "Mmm," I said, closing my eyes for a moment and savouring it. "Alexander Keith's Premium White. I won't settle for anything else."

"I bet you won't," he said with a grin. "You ruddy snob."

"I am not a snob, thank you very much," I replied, taking another sip. Damn, but it was good. "I'm just particular about what I put into my body."

"And on your body, and all around you," he rattled off, counting on his fingers like it was some exhaustive list. I glared at him and he laughed. "No, you're a snob all right," he said when he stopped. "Admit it."

"I most certainly will not," I declared. "Not all of us are uncouth, uncivilized apes. Some of us have standards."

"If you say so," he said, smiling at me, his eyes dancing with amusement. God, his eyes. I smiled back, quirking an eyebrow imperiously.

"Believe what you must, Potter," I said. "If it makes you feel better."

"It does," he replied. We sat in silence again, for a few minutes. I was sure he thought I'd forgotten the question, he was so good at deflecting any query remotely personal, but I was not so easily distracted.

"Harry," I said quietly. "Tell me."

He peeled the label off his bottle, shredding it onto the table before sighing and beginning to speak.

"It's just...that baby is so lucky. Its mother clearly loved it, and it has a whole community to care for it, should something happen to the mother. It's loved and it knows, and I... " H trailed off, looking up at last to meet my eyes. "I want that."

"You want to be a baby mermaid?"

"No, Draco, don't be absurd. I want a family. To love. To love me. A family that's mine." He looked back down at the table again, sifting through the shredded paper.

"But you...I don't understand," I said. "You're Harry Potter, surely you had family that loved you. I mean, I know your parents died when you were young, but...where did you grow up?"

He sighed deeply, smiling weakly at me before responding. "I was given to my aunt and her husband, my mother's sister. Muggles." He took another deep breath, as if bracing himself for what he was about to say. "They didn't like me. No, scratch that, they hated me. They despised me and everything about me, my parents, my hair, my needs...they hated that I had been forced on them. They hated magic. Not that I knew about magic until I was eleven. I got my Hogwarts letter and it all came as a huge surprise. See, they thought they could squash the magic out of me by keeping me alone, starved for food and affection and human contact. They kept me in the cupboard under the stairs, and basically ignored me. I was pretty much locked up all the time unless they needed me for something." He stopped, taking in a shuddering breath.

"For what?" I whispered, barely aware I had spoken.

"Chores, you know. I had to cook for them and clean up after them, and take care of the garden and...well, pretty much anything they could think of. Or just to yell at me and tell me how worthless I was, how unloved. Vernon, my uncle, he used to sit me down every night when I was young and rant for ages about how my parents didn't love me, how they died because of their own foolishness, how useless they had been. "Just a waste of space, that's all, and a blessing that they had themselves killed," he'd say.

"He told me they had died in a car crash, that they had been drinking. That my father was an unemployed alcoholic who had dragged my mother down into his squalor. I was sure to be just like them, a worthless leech, with nothing of use to offer society. Except perhaps to clean toilets or something equally demeaning."

"Harry, that's..." I interrupted, not even sure of what I wanted to say.

"I know, it's pretty horrible," he agreed.

"But, didn't they know who you were? What you'd done?" I asked.

"Oh, they knew. Dumbledore told them everything apparently, but it didn't matter. They hated magic and everything about it, especially me. I wonder if they would have been easier on me if I hadn't been touted as the 'Hero of the Wizarding World' or 'The Boy Who Lived'. Just knowing that I was magic, and powerful...I'm sure that made it worse. Made them more determined to squash the magic out of me.

"They let my cousin beat me up all the time, and he was huge. They encouraged him in it, I'm sure. As if neglecting me and spoiling him rotten while I watched wasn't enough. And when I did get my Hogwarts letter, they tried to keep it from me, tried to keep me from going. They hated me more than ever after that; they even locked me up during the summer after my first year."

"You had to go back every year?" I said, astonished. I had heard good and bad things about Albus Dumbledore, but he was without question a powerful wizard, both in magic and influence. Surely he didn't let Harry go back, knowing what he would be facing?

"Yeah," he said, resigned. "It was the magic, some kind of blood magic that my mother had conjured to protect me. It saved my life and ensured that no one could find me who meant to do me harm. And it made it impossible for Voldemort to touch me, which came in handy a few times. Unfortunately, that protection came with a price. I had to spend every summer there until I turned seventeen."

"Oh," I said, trying to absorb all he had told me. I didn't know if I could, it was so...shocking. It made sense though, in light of his detachment, his difficulty with opening up.

"Enough about me," he said with a wry grin. "Tell me about your childhood. I know your father, so I can imagine why your mother took you and ran, but..."

“Yeah, he's...not a very nice person,” I said.

“That's one way of putting it,” he said. I took a deep breath and told him. He'd opened up to me: the least I could do was return the favour.

“I don't really remember a lot. There are a few things that stand out, though. He almost killed one of our house elves for spilling his soup. He locked me in the dungeon once, when I was seven, because I tried to sneak into my mother's room...it was stormy and I was scared shitless. I don't suppose I have to tell you that I was never afraid of storms after that. What's a bit of rain and lightning when your father is a sadistic psychopath?”

“That's...not shocking, actually,” Harry said, smiling sadly at me. “Having had some experience with the man myself."

“Yeah, he's...well, there were a lot of little things. He was cold and distant...if he ever loved me I sure didn't know about it. I was his heir and that's all that mattered. Who I was, what I wanted, none of that mattered to him. Turns out it's a very good thing Mother took me and ran. I can't imagine he'd be proud of his gay son. He smacked me across the face when I was five for kissing my best friend on the cheek. It didn't mean anything: I'd kissed our other friend, who was a girl, a moment before. And they'd both kissed me. But when you're unhinged, everything is an offence.”

“Wow,” Harry said, his eyes wide.

“When Mother came and woke me up in the middle of the night and told me we were going on a trip, I knew. I knew we'd never be back, that we were running and if he caught us there would be no escape. I knew he'd kill her, purely for the insult of 'stealing' something that belonged to him. Because that's all I was to him: property. I wasn't Draco, I was the heir. Noting else mattered.” It was my turn to take a shuddering breath. My certainty of his hate and rage was one of the constants in my life, along with my mother's love. They're like night and day, my parents. My father is the terrifying darkness that you think you can never escape from, but my mother is the bright light of day, sweeping everything else away and making me feel safe. How I love her.

Silence fell for a moment while we both tried to soak in all the shocking information we had shared. I felt closer to him than ever. We were similar in a lot of ways, not least of which was our traumatic childhoods. I thought that perhaps we could help each other, to heal, to love. I sighed, looking up at him with a smile.

“I'm glad you'll never have to see them again,” I said.

“I'm glad you escaped,” he replied. "Hearing your story just makes me more determined."

"Determined to do what?" I ask. I'd forgotten during all the reminiscing just what we'd been talking about.

"Have a family," he replied, smiling absently, as if already dreaming of his perfect family.

"Oh?" I said. "How are you going to do that?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find the right person," he said, and I swear, the air left my chest. "I mean, the perfect girl is out there somewhere, right? I just have to find her."

"Yeah, I, uh..." I trailed off. What was I supposed to say to that? When just this morning I had been balls deep inside him while he writhed and moaned under me, I had hoped...well, I'd hoped that he was as invested as I was. That this thing between us, this undeniable, intense thing was actually going somewhere. Imagine my dismay to find out that it wasn't. What did it mean, then?

"It'll be great. I've only dreamed of that kind of stability. I mean, my best friend...his family kind of adopted me, and I love them, I'm so grateful for all they've done for me, but...well, I'm not really part of it, and it shows," he continued, oblivious to my emotional crisis. "I'd like to have a family, kids would be fab. I'm sure there's a pretty girl who wants the same, and will be able to stand me." He propped his hand on his palm, his intense eyes focusing on me once more.

"So, what about you?" he asked. "Do you want kids?"

"I...not really. It's not that I don't like them, in theory, but I've known since I was ten that I'm gay, so it's not like I can have them the old-fashioned way. It depends, I guess," I answered mechanically, tearing my eyes from his. I couldn't look at him anymore, not when my mind was in turmoil and my heart was in some kind of vise.

"Yeah, I can understand that," Harry said. He looked at me for a few minutes. I could feel his eyes on me though I couldn't open mine. I was still struggling with all he had told me, about his childhood, his family, about his plans for the future. The certainty that he'll be leaving me when his term is up...I took a deep breath, then jumped when I felt his hand on my cheek. I opened my eyes to find him crouching beside my chair, concern in his eyes.

"Draco, are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes, I..." I gathered my strength and mustered a smile. "I'll be fine. Bad memories, you know."

"Yeah, I do," he agreed, then took my hand and pulled me out of the chair. "Make love to me Draco," he asked, and I was powerless to deny him. My heart clenched at his words. How could he ask me to make love to him after telling me, in no uncertain terms, but without even knowing what he was doing, that I was nothing to him? Convenience. Circumstance. Proximity. Nothing he'd choose if given the choice. I swallowed the lump in my throat and set to making him feel every ounce of the love I felt for him. Even if he didn't see it for what it was, or love me back. We all have to do what we must.

123

"Draco, look at this," Harry said, calling me over. He had been slumped in his chair for an hour, flicking through websites and absentmindedly scratching his bare chest and belly occasionally. I was ostensibly focused on my own computer, but in reality, I was watching him. All that lovely skin on display, skin I have covered with my mouth and tongue just that morning. I sighed. I was becoming far too maudlin as our time here came closer to an end. There was still so much I wanted to do with him, so much potential. So much loss.

"Sure," I drawled, knowing it would get a grin out of him. I savoured his amused look and padded across the room to him.

"What is it?" I asked, glancing down at the screen.

"It's in Australia," he replied. "Lake Eyre. It's gorgeous, isn't it?"

"Yes," I agreed. It was. The lake was as still as glass, reflecting the clouds and landscape around it like a mirror.

"Usually it only gets a bit of water, from the rainfalls in the north, but sometimes it gets more and occasionally it fills completely," Harry explained, sifting through a few pictures, ranging from the dry lake bed to satellite images and back to the [first image he'd shown me, the lake filled and vast.](http://www.au.v3travel.com/VCubed/UI/Images/SHARED/1477fcea-1eb5-42b2-bba3-67c01de4d5fa.jpg)

"The water evaporates as the lake dries up, or so the Muggles think, but what they don't know is that there is an underground lake; a good portion of the water drains into it. In fact, the amount of the drainage is controlled magically, so it's really wizards who determine when the lake fills and how much. The lake never used to fill at all, until the wizards began 'plugging the hole' as it were." He grinned up at me, eyes bright and excited.

"Is there a wizard town down there, or something?" I asked. Why else would wizards care about how much water collects in the lake bed?

"Not as such," he replied, navigating away from the photo to a website. "There's a habitat like ours, only much larger. The underground lake is like the Black Lake at Hogwarts: it's filled with a lot of magical creatures that the people there study, including a rather large colony of merpeople. They're looking for more people for the upcoming year, so I'm going to apply."

My heart stopped, frozen in my chest. He hadn't spoken of his intention to leave since our discussion about our childhoods, so I'd pushed it to the side, ignored it.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it's almost ready, see?" He closed the internet window, revealing an almost complete application for a term starting in five months’ time. Harry was grinning up at me, and if I wasn't so broken up by the thought of losing him, his enthusiasm would be contagious.

"But...are you sure you want to go there? Australia is a long way away, and the seasons are all backwards there. Plus, it's pretty hot, I've heard. You're not exactly acclimated to the weather." I didn't mean to bring him down, but I just couldn't bring myself to let him go without at least trying to convince him to stay. "Why not take another term here? I was considering taking another year myself."

"Nah, it's too isolated here," he replied, dismissing the idea with a wave of his hand. "There's a lot more people there, since it's not just a merperson colony being studied, and as for the weather, bring it on. I'm tired of rain and cold, and British Columbia was named well: it might as well be England. I need something new." He turned back to the application and began filling it out again.

"Okay," I said quietly, a lump in my throat. "It must be nice," I added, before I'd realized what I was saying.

"What?" he asked, not turning away from the screen and that damned application.

"Just picking up and leaving. Going wherever you want, with no thoughts to the people you're leaving behind." Okay, so I was getting a bit bitter.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, turning to look at me.

"Oh, you know. Just that you left your self-proclaimed family in England to come here, and now you're all set to move on and leave..." I trailed off. I wasn't going to say it. I was getting pretty girly as it is. I didn't want to suddenly sprout breasts or something. Ew.

"Leave you, you mean," he said quietly, staring at me with an inscrutable look on his face.

"I...no, of course not." I turned away, stalking back to my computer, and pretending to look busy.

"Draco," he said, but I ignored him. There was nothing left to say, really. "Draco," he said again, forcefully.

"What?" I snapped, giving him a glare.

"You know this isn't serious, right? I mean, this thing we're doing." He waved a hand between us, as if that could sum up everything we'd shared in the past eight months.

"Yes, you've made it very plain," I replied, closing up my laptop and gathering my things.

"Have I done anything to make you think it was more?" he asked, moving across the room to grab my arm.

"No, but you never did anything to make me think it wasn't," I said. "Or that it couldn't be. Anyway, it's not a problem. I'll be leaving shortly after you head off to your Australian adventure."

"I haven't even applied yet," he said. I tugged my arm free and turned to leave.

"Better get on it, then," I called over my shoulder. I headed straight for my room; the only thing to do after making a fool of yourself in front of the man you were in love with was to hide.

100

"Draco? Are you there?"

I jerked, waking up as if I'd been sleeping right there at the table. My head was fuzzy and my thoughts scattered. Well, not scattered so much as focused on one place, one person, far away from here.

"Sorry Mother," I said, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. I had been trying so hard all weekend to keep my head above water and, more importantly, keep my mother from guessing why I was struggling. I was depressed and I knew it. I was usually very good at keeping depression at bay or lifting myself from it once I'd realized where I was, but this was different. Now I was living with the cause of my depression, alone, contained, unable to escape it. Not that I would if I was able. I wanted to stay, I wanted to be with him. Yet I couldn't ignore the fact that Harry was leaving. That he'd never intended to stay and nothing that had grown between us would change his mind. Or his heart.

And that was the nail in the coffin, right there. I was hopelessly in love with him and he...well, I was just a convenience to him, wasn't I? Sure, he wanted me. He would never have let me shag him if he didn't and the sex was still fabulous. But there was a distance there that I hadn't felt before. Whether it was me or him who was maintaining it, I wasn't sure. Perhaps both of us. Because, no matter how intense the encounter, or how often we shagged, it was always in my head, the knowledge, the certainty that I'm not it. I'm not the one he wanted for the near future, never mind his life.

And I was certain, more every day, that he was the one for me. It was as undeniable as his imminent departure, and just as depressing. I sighed. There was no way out of this funk...not yet. Not until he was gone and I'd left the habitat and all its memories behind.

"Honestly, Draco," Mother chastised, and I realized that I'd drifted off again. "What on earth has got into you? I thought you'd be happy, what with your Harry waiting for you to come back."

"He's not my Harry, Mother. He never was. Besides, he's leaving once our term is up, and I'll probably never see him again." I took a long drink from my wine glass, partly to distract myself and partly to liquor up. Yes, getting wasted tonight was a great idea. Perhaps I'll hit the club after and find some pretty boy to shag...no, that'll never work. The thought of anyone but Harry twisted my stomach into knots. Besides, Mother and I were sharing a suite, as usual, and I didn't fancy a back alley fuck.

"I was under the impression that everything was going well," she said, brow furrowed. Unlike how Lucius would have reacted, Mother had never cared that I am gay: she just wanted me to be happy. Being gay didn't save me from her matchmaking attempts, but at least once I'd come out she stopped trying to hook me up with girls. Thank Merlin for that.

"So was I, for a while," I said, putting my glass down. Perhaps getting wasted wasn't the best of ideas. Tempting, though. "But I was deluding myself, apparently. He has every intention of moving to Australia and finding a pretty girl to marry and have kids with. The perfect family for the orphan boy. Never mind that he loves getting fucked until he can barely walk." Oops. Went a little over the line with that last, I think. Perhaps I should lay off the wine.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flaring. "Have some decency, please."

"Yes, Mother," I said respectfully. "Sorry."

"Honestly," she said, fanning herself. "You know I don't have any problems with your preferences, but I do not wish to hear any sordid details about your sex life."

"I apologize," I said.

"Well, alright, then," she said, fixing me with a look that I knew far too well. "But at least now I know what has been bothering you all weekend."

"Is it that obvious?" I asked, cringing.

"To me it is, but I am your mother, after all. I know you better than anyone, Draco," she stated, and I knew she was right. I was a mummy's boy and I knew it. "You're really feeling this. Are you that in love with this boy?"

"He's not a boy, Mother. He killed You Know Who, remember?" I corrected. I could never think of Harry as anything but all man, though I knew he still had some filling out to do.

"Of course he is. I haven't forgotten," she said, patting my hand. The waitress came over just then, so we ordered some dessert: triple chocolate torte for me. there was nothing better for this mood than chocolate. For a moment I thought that I could distract Mother from our topic, but one look at her face told me that was a false hope. Once the waitress had left she raised her eyebrow and waited. I sighed, knowing there was nothing for it.

"I...I don't know. How do you know real love from infatuation?" I asked.

"You know," she replied. "When you are infatuated, you think that nothing will ever change, how you feel, the intensity, this is it, forever, and you have no doubts. It's how I felt about your father, in the beginning." She sighed, her face full of regret. "But love," she continued, "love fills you with doubts, with uncertainties. Love changes, and it changes you. It grows as you do."

"Oh," I said quietly. "Have you ever been in love?" It occurred to me that she was very certain. But, as far as I knew, she'd never been with anyone since we fled England.

"Yes," she answered softly. "A lovely young man, when you were ten. You've never met him: he is the cousin of one of my friends. You were in the midst of some personal angst then, and probably would not have noticed if I had snogged him in the sitting room. Not that it ever progressed that far. I could not allow it; you were my world, and it was far too early to think about a new relationship."

"What happened?" I asked.

"He couldn't wait," she said simply. "I don't blame him, though at the time I thought I would hate him forever for giving up on me. I did, though. Of course he couldn't wait: it was unfair of me to ask him to."

"Do you still love him?"

"Yes, I do. I always will. I have yet to find anyone else able to get so close into my heart. I may never," she said wistfully.

"I'm sorry," I said, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze.

"It's fine: I have learned to live with it." She gave me a smile, and squeezed back. The waitress brought our desserts, thankfully, and I dug into my torte with determination. It was so good, I had to stop and moan.

"Well, I'll remember to order that next time," Mother said, smirking.

"It's fabulous!" I smiled back.

"So Draco, you were telling me about your feelings; do go on." Darn, another bullet going undodged.

I took a deep breath, focusing on a spot just over her shoulder. Fortunately, she had her back to the window, so I wasn't left staring at the wall.

"I think...no. I know. He's it, Mum, he's the one. I hate him and he annoys me and disgusts me and oh, he is so infuriating, but I just...I can't let it go. I want to keep him, forever. There's so much about him I don't know, so much to learn. We get on well, and we argue ferociously and the sex...oh, don't give me that look," I said in response to her scrunched nose. "I'm not going into details, but it's amazing. Enlightening, uplifting, transcendent."

"Well, that really is special then," she cut in.

"It is. There's nothing like it. And I know he's far from perfect, and he's really rather closed off, but I want to open him up. I want to know all there is." I put my fork down and looked her in the eye.

"It's too soon. Too soon, I haven't had him long enough. I just know he could love me, if he tried. If he actually let himself, instead of running off to find some random girl to be a breed mare for him."

"Draco! That's unkind," Mother said and I knew she was right. But...

"I don't care," I snapped back. "He wants some dream of the perfect wife and the perfect family, the perfect life! But life isn't perfect and no makeshift family will ever replace his dead parents, or bring them back. Nothing will erase his childhood; trying to resurrect the past is no way to plan for the future. And I'm right here, Mother, I'm right here, and I love him so much it's killing me. I just can't let him walk out of my life, but he's determined to do it! What can I do?" I asked, more than a little desperately. My eyes were itching with unshed tears, but I would _not_ let them out here, not in public.

"Oh, my boy," she said, taking both my hands and looking me right in the eye. "You will get through this. You will watch him walk out of your life, and it will break your heart into endless pieces, but you will find a way to pick them up again. You are my son and you are strong. You will survive and you will love again, do you hear me?"

I nodded, blinking back the ever-threatening tears, clinging to her hands as if I would fall into the abyss should I dare to let go. I didn't believe her, of course, but I had to try. There was no hope for me if I couldn't.

68

It's eerily quiet in the dome when you're there alone. The presence of another person fills the space with sounds and life, but alone...it's silent. The noises that the various machines and spells make are like background noise: they aren't company. Harry was outside; sometimes he liked to take a swim, without having to worry about work, and I didn't blame him. It was easy to go stir crazy in this place. I was used to it after almost two years, but he definitely wasn't. The sex helped a lot, for both of us...I was much less restless this term than I had been during the one I spent with Melisa.

There had been a week of awkward exchanges after our...argument, I guess you could call it, but we hadn't been able to stay apart for long. There were reasons that two people were assigned to this outpost, and why our leaves were so short, only three days at a time. Many of our underwater tasks required a partner, and the forced closeness wouldn't allow the awkwardness to linger. As much as it still hurt, his easy dismissal of what had been growing between us, his eagerness to leave me behind, I pushed it down and tried to act normal. Our friendship hadn't been damaged too badly, and it didn't take that long to get back into bed, but I could feel the distance now, where before there had been none. Or so I'd thought.

I suppose that's what it all comes down to. Perspective. I was falling ever more in love with him, and he was just letting off some steam. It was hard to reconcile, but I was trying. I was trying to enjoy the last few weeks we had together and...

"Hello Draco," a voice interrupted, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. No. Impossible. I didn't turn around, I just closed my eyes and wished it away, as if my denial would make it any less real. Until I was struck across the back of the head and knocked to the floor. I turned and looked up and all my fears came to life when I saw my father before me, looking exactly as he had the last time I'd seen him. The day before we had fled for our lives.

"Look at me when I am speaking to you, boy," Lucius hissed, his eyes blazing with madness and anger.

"W-what," I stuttered, too in shock to move. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, perfect," he sneered. "An accent to go with your new country, and the new name. Or should I say, the old name with a twist. Very clever, it made finding you rather difficult. But it's just a fancy way of saying Black. Don't you know that the Blacks are gone, Draco? That they died from madness and inbreeding, such a pathetic family. No son of mine will carry that name, no more."

"It's a damn sight better than Malfoy!" I snapped back, earning a kick in the ribs for it. I doubled over, but he kept talking.

"Bite your tongue boy, or I will rip it out of your damn traitorous head!" he shouted. "Although I can't blame you, really, you were just a child, under the influence of your mother, the ungrateful bitch! After all I'd given her, lifting her out of that disaster of a family and giving her my name, as if she deserved it. But she proved what she was in the end, just another unfaithful Black without the courage to see her commitments though."

He reached down and grabbed my arm, pulling me into a standing position, his mood suddenly shifting. "Now let me look at you, all grown up. Such a fine looking young man you are, Draco, the perfect heir for my house. Once I've trained your mother's brainwashing out of you, that is."

"Leave her out of this," I spat in his face. Probably not the best move, but I didn't care. "She saved me, she saved us both. If we'd stayed you'd have killed us before long."

"Shut up!" he roared, shaking me and throwing me to the ground again. "You know nothing of me, nothing!"

"I know that you're a psychotic madman, driven only by lust for money and power, as pathetic as your so-called 'master'. But wait, he's dead now, isn't he? You're a cowardly follower and now there's no one left to follow, is there?" Oh Merlin, what was I doing? I don't know where the words came from, but I couldn't stop them. Things I'd wanted to say to him for a long time. All it was doing was making him angrier and with my wand on the table behind him and Harry out for who knows how long, the situation was getting desperate. My head spun with the implications, if he captured me now, he'd make certain I never had a chance to flee again.

" _Cruicio_!" he screamed and white hot pain exploded in every part of my body as the curse took hold. It didn't last long, but long enough. I was left panting on the floor, weakened and terrified.

"Did that feel good, boy? Did you like it? If you want more, simply loosen that traitorous tongue of yours again and I'll see it lasts for much longer." He gave me another kick, spitting on my face before turning and seating himself in the chair I had been in before he'd knocked me out of it.

"Why are you here?" I gasped out, clutching my middle and desperately trying to breathe as the aftershocks of pain rippled through me.

"Why, I'm here to take you home, of course," he said, his voice soft and loving now. "You were stolen from me, most unexpectedly, and I found that I could not blame you for it. You were forced to leave me, kidnapped by that bitch I married, and hidden from me. But I found you and I'll bring you home, where you belong. As far from this backward colony as I can take you."

"I belong here," I said, sitting up with aching muscles.

"No!" he roared, his eyes blazing with madness once more. The mood swings were unpredictable. The only way I could see out of this was to play along. I swallowed and prepared to submit, or make him think I was.

"But Mother," I said weakly.

"Oh, I'll get my revenge on your mother, never fear. But I thought it prudent to secure you first. When one has proven to be such a deceptive bitch, you can't be too careful. Wouldn't do to have her warn you, would it?" He looked down at me disdainfully, lifting his nose.

"Do get up off the floor, Draco," he said. "Never forget you are a Malfoy, and Malfoys do not sit upon the floor."

"Yes, Father," I said in an attempt to mollify him. I dragged my aching body up and managed to get onto the chair across from him. We sat in silence, I had no idea what he was thinking, and I was not about to hazard a guess. My mind was awhirl with possibilities, how I was going to stop him, how to get my wand back (that would help with stopping him) and what if Harry came back at the wrong moment. Oh, if only Harry would show up now, wand drawn while Lucius' back was to him.

Unfortunately, it wasn't to be. Lucius stood and began pacing around the room, keeping an eye fixed on me while he shuffled papers and knocked over equipment.

"So, Draco, let's get to know each other while we wait for the Portkey," he said casually. "I assume you were given some kind of magical education? Or did your mother send you to some Muggle school?" The derision was plain, for both Mother and Muggles.

"No sir," I replied. "She sent me to the Vancouver Island School of Magic...it's very prestigious, the best magical school in the area." It was the best. NBCMA was the only other school for BC and Alberta, and it wasn't nearly as good.

"I'm glad to hear it. A Malfoy deserves nothing but the best." He continued his lap around the room. As he reached the far side of the room, I realized my chance had come. He was too far from me to stop me in time, his back turned, and my wand only a few feet away. I kept my eye on him and when he turned to look at the large map of the sea floor, I leapt from the chair and dashed to my wand, snatching it up and dropping to the floor, just in time for a red bolt to hit the desk where it lay.

"Draco!" he bellowed. "Get up and give me your wand, you foolish boy!" I slipped around the edge of the desk, resting against it for a moment. I could see him stalking across the room: his reflection in the glass viewing window was bearing down on me.

"Never!" I yelled back, leaping to my feet and casting at him as soon as I cleared the table top. " _Incarcerous!_ "

" _Protego!_ " he deflected my spell with ease and kept advancing. "You'll pay for that, boy!"

"Stop calling me boy!" I snapped, casting a few quick spells in an attempt to cut through his shielding, but he was too fast. I ducked behind another chair, forced further into the room by his hexes.

"Stand up and fight like a real man. Or did your mother raise you as Muggle?" he sneered, but I ignored him and kept moving. I had no idea where I was going, I just needed to put some distance between us. My mind began searching for a spell to use against him, but the real problem was getting past his shields.

"Fuck off!" I said instead, diving across the floor so that I was behind the console and adjacent to the doorway, where he now stood in all his insane glory. I had to admit, he made a striking picture, all dark robes and white hair. The nobility of his ancestry was plain on his face, but the madness underneath twisted his handsome features until they were almost unrecognizable. I shot off a few more spells, but they, too, were deflected. Damn, he wasn't going to make this easy.

"Fool," he laughed, lifting his hands as if accepting worship. "You are nothing but an insignificant child next to me, boy. Either your school is not as proficient as you believe it is, or you take after your mother in more than your pretty face. Give in and we will return home to begin your re-education."

"I'm not going anywhere with you, you freak!" I yelled back sending a few more spells his way. He had stopped casting spells and was simply deflecting mine now, biding his time. I shuddered, fear and panic beginning to overwhelm me. I was running out of ideas and there was no sign of Harry. Perhaps it was better that he not come back, my father would surely kill him if he had the chance. I'd rather go with him than see Harry dead, if that's what it came to.

"You'll never break through my shields, boy," he taunted. "I was trained by the greatest dark wizard to have ever walked this earth, how could a child like you hope to compete?"

"Some great wizard," I said with a sneer, pushing myself up and standing to face him. The thought of him hurting Harry had changed my agenda, I just had to get him out of this place and then I could come up with a method of escape. "Killed by an infant, and then a teenager?"

"You know nothing about it!" he snarled, raising his wand. "It's time to end this, _Imperi_..."

He never got to finish the incantation as a body hurtled itself through the air toward him, knocking him onto the floor.

"Harry!" I yelled, dashing across the room to where he and Lucius were caught in a wrestling match, Lucius' wand on the floor beside him. Suddenly Harry yelped and doubled over, falling to the side and allowing Lucius to snatch up his wand.

"Stay back, or I'll Crucio him," he warned, and I stopped, unable to bear the thought that Harry would have to go through the pain I had recently experienced. "Well, well, if it isn't Harry Potter." He sneered and kicked Harry in the ribs causing him to shout in pain once more. "I might have known you'd be here, for who else has plagued me since the day of his birth? So damned lucky, that's all, but your luck is about to run out, you filthy Mudblood!" He raised his wand.

"Father, please!" I shouted, coming to stand beside him. "Please, don't hurt him," I begged, unable to stop myself, still hoping for a way out.

"Draco, don't," Harry gasped.

"Quiet, Harry," I said, giving him a pleading look before turning to Lucius, a bargain on my lips.

"Yes, shut up, Potter," he spat, kicking Harry again.

"Father, please, I-I'll come with you, just please leave Harry alone."

"I'm sorry son, but I can't do that," he replied. "This whelp has ruined my plans too many times, and I cannot allow him to ruin this one." He raised his wand again, a gleam in his eye that made me shudder. " _Avada Kedav_..."

" _Cruicio_!" I screamed, channelling all my hate and fear and desperation into the spell. He collapsed to the floor, screaming in agony as I pulled Harry away. He stood, gripping my arm and shaking it.

"Stop it now, Draco," he said, but I couldn't. The man at my feet had tortured me and Mother for too long, had hurt and killed so many people, including Harry and his friends, as well as countless others, Muggle and Magical alike. He deserved it.

"No, he doesn't," Harry said. Apparently, I had said it out loud. "He deserves to rot in prison, but no one deserves this, Draco. Please."

I sighed, ending the spell and slumping against Harry in exhaustion.

" _Stupefy_ ; _Incarcerous_ ," he cast quickly, binding Lucius and taking me in his arms. "Shh, it's okay now, Draco. He'll go back to prison; he'll never be able to do this again."

All of the fear and tension and relief came pouring out of me in a rush, leaving me a sobbing mess in Harry's arms. The rest of the world was forgotten as he held me. I felt loved, protected, at peace, and I never wanted to leave. I felt more strongly than ever, that with Harry is where I belong.

22

The feeling didn't last long. Reality has a way of biting you in the ass. And not in the good way. It was scarcely a month later that Harry received his acceptance for the Lake Eyre Magical Creatures Association. He was over the moon. I, as you may have guessed, was not.

"Here's the pamphlet, check out those facilities. They have three separate domes in the underground lake, connected by a Floo system. Well, it's like a Floo system, from what I can tell. More like a tube that sucks you magically to the dome. And the living area is separate from the observation posts, which houses people from all three areas. Look at that common area: it's huge, nothing like this little place."

I nodded along, trying to get into his enthusiasm, but I just couldn't. "This place isn't so bad, is it?" I asked, absently flipping through the pamphlet he'd given me.

He looked up and laughed. "Oh, come on Draco. You've been here almost two years, you must know by now that this place is a dive. It needs an update badly, the equipment is getting a little ancient, and it's so crowded down here. There's no way more than two people could live here."

"This place was built for two people," I said, feeling more than a little defensive.

"Sure, sure, but you have to admit it could use improvements," he insisted, eyes alight with the joy of his newer, bigger, fancier home. I swallowed a lump of hurt, something I'd been doing more and more as his departure approached.

"Seems like you're moving on to better things. Better facilities, better pay. Better friends, better lovers." So I was a bit bitter, so what? The man I loved more than I thought possible was leaving me without a second thought. What's not to be bitter about?

"Oh, Draco," Harry replied, clapping me on the shoulder. "You know the only thing that made this place bearable was you." He leaned over and gave me a soft kiss, then patted my cheek and turned back to his pamphlets. "But this place, this is fabulous. I can't wait to get there."

"When do you start?" I asked softly, gazing at him, trying to capture every nuance and memorize it.

"Two months from now," he replied, grinning. "But I'm going to book the first flight I can after I get out of here. I can spend some time as a tourist; Australia is a beautiful country."

"I'm sure it is," I agreed. "Canada is pretty beautiful too," I added.

"Yes, but too cold," he laughed. I smiled back, but my heart wasn't in it. My heart wasn't in anything lately. Whenever it felt like breaking I tried to remember what my mother had told me, tried to be strong, but it was a struggle. Like I was in the water and it was lapping at my face, and there was no special charm to save me. I was in over my head and it was beginning to take its toll.

1

This is it. The last time. I tried not to focus on that as I kissed him and pushed him back onto my bed, pulling off my clothes as he scrambled out of his. I tried not to think about his room, bare of all personal effects, his bag packed and waiting on the bed. He was as beautiful as ever, as passionate, as wild. Letting him go is going to rip me to pieces.

I crawled onto the bed, running my hands over every inch of him, kissing him desperately as I tried to soak up how it felt when he touched me. His hands gripped my arms, my shoulders, travelled up and down my chest before reaching back to grab my ass and pull me closer as he thrust his hips up to meet me. Our erections brushed and slid, rubbing against each other as I settled onto him, grinding.

"Mmm, Draco," he panted, wrapping his legs around my waist to keep us close.

"Yeah, I know," I said, kissing him again. I wanted to inhale him, make him mine so he'd never be able to leave.

"Gah," he exclaimed, pushing me away. "I need you in me, come on."

"What's the rush?" I said, as I pinned his hands to the bed and kissing my way down his throat, leaving hickeys as I went. I wanted to mark him as mine, permanently, but I knew that wasn't possible. This would have to do. I ran my tongue back and forth across his collarbone, paying attention to the spots that I knew affected him more, sucking blood to the skin with a vehemence that surprised even me.

I moved down, marking his chest and belly, loving how he quivered as I reached the ticklish spot just about his left hip, which I laved slowly, driving him into incoherence.

"Nguh," he said, moaning my name and cursing me at the same time, unable to string more than a few words together. Oh Harry, how could you think about giving this up? Has anyone ever made you feel like this, has anyone made you insensible with lust and need, has anyone else made you come so hard you blacked out? Do I matter to you at all?

How could he leave me like this? Just walk away without a backward glance, when I loved him so well, how could he just throw it all away? I felt tears pricking my eyes and I blinked them back, turning my attention to his straining cock, sucking it in as far as I could before lavishing all the love I felt for him onto it.

"Draco, please, I'm, I'm," he gasped out, but I already knew. I knew before he did, the clenching of his thighs, the increased pitch of his cries warning me before the head of his cock mushroomed between my lips and he came, spurt after spurt of his essence on my tongue and lips. I sucked and swallowed, lapping it up as if it were the elixir of life which, to me, it was.

"Oh, oh, oh," he said, his hands clenched in my hair as he came down, but I wasn't done yet. Not nearly. I rolled him over and spread his legs, pulling his cheeks apart and blowing gently on his twitching pucker before leaning in to kiss it. I made love to his hole as I had his cock, and soon he was wriggling under me once more, gasping and moaning and squirming, pushing his ass back for more. He loved it when I ate him out, it never failed to harden him again, no matter how hard I'd made him come before, and this was no exception. He pushed up onto his knees, lifting his ass and waving it in the air for me, leaving no doubts as to what he wanted.

But I didn't want to do it like that, not this time. I rolled him over onto his back, spelling lube onto my cock before leaning in for another kiss. I pulled his legs up and exposed his hungry hole to my cock. It was starving for him, it always was. I plunged in, wasting no time now that he was ready and hard once more. I didn't move fast though, I wanted to take my time and savour every sound, every twitch I could wring from him. I set a steady pace, making sure to hit his prostate; I wanted him to come with me, together, the way it should be.

Long minutes passed in a flash as I thrust into him relentlessly, never speeding up, never changing the angle, just enough to keep him, and me, on the edge, clinging to each other for life. Finally I reached the point where I could not stand it anymore, my thrusts began to pick up speed and I pushed his legs back further so that I was hitting his sweet spot on every pass. His moaning grew louder and louder as I sped up, compounded when I reached down and took his cock in hand, stroking in time with my thrusts until both of us were flung over the edge into bliss, panting and moaning and gasping for air.

I let his legs fall and my cock slide out of him as I rolled to the side, pulling him with me and kissing him with all the longing and love that I possessed. It was almost over and I couldn't bear the thought. Now was not the time to dwell on fact, now was the time to imagine what might have been, as I held him in my arms for the last time, both of us drifting to sleep, sticky and sated, complete.

0

He was ready. Ready and eager and completely oblivious to what I was feeling. Which was for the best really, if being with me for almost a year wasn't enough to make him want to stay, nothing I said today would be.

We were in the reception room, minutes away from the activation of his Portkey, watching each other awkwardly and filling the silence with coughs and shuffling feet.

"So, you're off in a few days, then?" he asked.

"The replacements arrive the day after tomorrow," I said, probably sounding depressed and dispirited. It wasn't a stretch: I was depressed and dispirited.

"Have you decided what you're gonna do?"

"No, I'm not sure," I replied. "It's not like I need the money, so..." I trailed off.

"Just a few minutes now," he said, checking his watch for the twentieth time.

"Yeah, I..." I met his eyes for probably the first time that day, searching his face for something, anything.

"I guess this is goodbye," he said, giving me a small smile. "It's been...pretty amazing, actually."

I nodded, still holding his gaze, until he broke it to heft the Portkey.

"Harry," I croaked. He looked at me, his hair falling over intense eyes, more attractively than ever before. Or was it just the desperation of the situation? "Don't go," I pleaded quietly.

He looked right into me, his eyes filled with regret, and for a split second I thought he would change his mind and stay. Instead, he took two steps toward me, clasping the back of my neck and kissing me deeply and tenderly before pulling back and whispering, "Bye."

He backed up again, not a moment too soon, disappearing almost immediately, a soft smile on his lips and anticipation in his eyes.

I could taste him on my lips for hours after he had gone, until the salt of lonely tears washed him away.

-3

"Draco!" Mother exclaimed as I came through the door, dashing across the room and all but throwing herself at me. It was more than a little out of character, but understandable given the circumstances.

"Mother, honestly," I laughed when she pulled back, finally. "Have a little decorum," I said, imitating her British drawl.

She laughed unrestrainedly, a sound I didn't hear often, but one that I loved.

"I was so worried for you," she said seriously, pulling me into the sitting room.

"I know you were," I replied, squeezing her hand and smiling warmly at her. "The experience was...rather harrowing, but once it was over...I was alright. Harry was there," I added. I had sent her a message after Lucius had been toted away and the mess had been cleared. She deserved to know, after all, they were still officially married. Not for long, now that the danger of his discovering us had passed. It turned out that a condition of Lucius' parole was that he not leave the UK, so not only was he facing charges in Canada, charges I was more than happy to press, but he was facing extradition to England, and an extended sentence there. It was nothing less than he deserved.

"About that," Mother said, smiling sadly at me. "He's gone, is he?" I nodded, swallowing down the grief that had threatened to overwhelm me at various times over the last few days. She pulled me into another hug, a gentler one this time, and I went, gratefully, breathing in the comforting smell of home. For a few moments I was a child again and being held in my mother's arms made everything alright. She was my hero, after all.

But nothing could change the fact that Harry was gone. My heart ached for what could have been, like a pressure on my chest that made it tight and itchy, my eyes prickling with unshed tears. I took a deep shuddering breath and held on, determined that this heartache would not break me. Mother was right, I am stronger than that.

It still hurt like a bitch, though.

Finally she pulled back, cupping my face and kissing me softly on the forehead. "You are a strong, resilient man, Draco. You have survived your father, not once, but twice. Harry may hold your heart, but your will is your own."

I smiled sadly and nodded. She was right of course, as always.

"It's time to put them both in the past. We start fresh from here, yes?"

"Yes," I agreed, pulling her close again and squeezing tight. "We start from here."

~*~

"And that was two years ago," Draco said, wrapping up his story, sighing in relief that it was over. "I never saw Harry after that day, and though I swore to move on, it wasn't as easy as all that."

"So that's why you don't date, still?" Phil asked, leaning in eagerly. "That's crazy; you need to get over the jerk."

"Hey, he's not a jerk," Draco defended, shaking his head at his friend. "He just wanted different things; I can't begrudge him following his heart. The problem is, mine just isn't into dating anymore."

"It's understandable," Shelley piped up. "A love like that doesn't come along every day. And Harry Potter, no less. No wonder you can't get over him."

"Well, there is that," Phil agreed. "Is he as gorgeous as the pictures?"

"He's scruffy and unkempt and utterly hopeless," Draco said with a laugh. "But yes, totally gorgeous."

"Wow," his friends said, awe all over their faces.

"At least you got to fuck him for the better part of a year," Jack said with smirk that he'd patterned after Draco's own. "That's gotta be worth something."

"Oh, you, always thinking with your cock!" Shelley exclaimed, hitting Jack on the chest.

"Hey, I'm here, queer, and horny as fuck!" Jack said, tossing his chin flamboyantly. "Besides, you've got to see the bright side. Draco got to top the so-called 'Greatest Wizard of our Age,' repeatedly. It's something to write home about."

"If only I hadn't lost my heart in the process," Draco said, shaking his head at his friend. "But you are right about one thing: I wouldn't trade that year in for anything, despite the heartache."

"I still say you should get over him," Phil said. "And that Mark bloke is just the guy to do it with, and you can't deny he's hot as hell."

A chorus of confirmation went up from the others. "He's got you there, Draco," Shelley said. "I'd do him," she said with a leer.

"You'd have to do him," Jack said with a laugh. "He's a total bottom; I bet he'd bend over if you had a nice big strap-on to offer him."

They laughed uproariously, even Draco couldn't help himself. His friends were right, it was time to pick up the pieces and live again. The doorbell rang, cutting through the merriment.

"That'll be Alan and Jess," Draco said. "Damn newlyweds, always late."

"I'll get it!" Shelley volunteered, jumping up and leaving the room.

"Grab me another one of those divine coolers, would you?" Phil called out as she went.

"Get it yourself," she called over her shoulder, making Draco and Jack laugh at Phil's pout.

"I bet they're late because they stopped for a quickie," Phil speculated. "They can't keep their hands off each other, it's disgusting," he said with a grimace.

"I know," Draco agreed, scrunching up his nose. "All that happy heterosexuality really turns me off!" He shared a laugh with Jack and Phil, but they were cut off when Shelley came back into the room, a rumpled, travel worn figure following.

"Draco, it's for you," Shelley said, her voice hushed. Draco looked up, the laugh dying in his throat as he recognized the unexpected visitor.

A nervous Harry stood before him, several bags over his shoulders, hair and clothes messier than Draco had ever seen them.

"Harry," he breathed, frozen in shock.

"Hello Draco," Harry said softly. "I hope I'm not intruding. I just came to talk a bit, if you can spare a moment."

"Ooh, that accent," Jack said, looking Harry up and down. "Just lovely."

Harry shot him a shy glance, but his eyes where quickly back on Draco, who had stood.

"I, yeah, of course," he stuttered, gesturing toward the balcony.

Harry pulled his bags off and stacked them against the wall, nodding at the rest as he followed Draco out the doors onto the balcony. Draco pulled the door shut, glaring at his friends in warning before turning to the man he thought he'd never see again. His heart clenched as joy and hope twisted him up inside.

"It's rather a surprise to see you," Draco began, fidgeting with the door handle. "I'd heard you were happily settled with some pretty Australian girl," he added, swallowing down the hurt.

"Alicia," Harry said, shaking his head. "Yes, we...well, we were engaged for a while, but I came to realize that, as inconvenient as it can be, you can only deny your heart for so long."

"Oh?" Draco breathed, panic joining the myriad of emotions inside him.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I still want a family, desperately, but I just couldn't deny anymore that I missed you. That I thought about you more than I thought about her, even with her right in front of me. That no one has ever made me feel the way you do, and I wasn't being fair to Alicia by staying. She's a lovely girl, and she deserves better. So I broke it off."

"You, I..." Draco swallowed heavily, his heart swelling as he struggled to absorb all that Harry had said. "I don't understand."

"I came back for you, Draco," Harry clarified, taking a step closer and prying Draco's hand from the door handle. "That is, if you're not seeing anyone. And if you're still interested. It's been years, I know, I'm sorry..."

"Why now?" Draco interrupted, yanking his hand back.

"I...I needed some time," Harry replied. "It took a little longer than it should have, I reckon."

"Oh, you think?" Draco snapped back. "Two years, Harry, it's been two years! I could be married by now!"

"You can do that here?" Harry asked, but Draco just glared at him. "Sorry, that's not the point." Harry took a breath, leaning on the rail and looking out over the inlet. "Thing is, after the war, I didn't really know what I wanted, or who I was. I fell in love with aquatic research, that part came quickly, but... Who I am...it was harder to find."

"Clearly," Draco said, shaking his head. "You could have found yourself here, you know."

"No, I don't think I could have. I needed to get some distance to see what I'd lost. To realize what I missed, what I wanted."

"And you've decided it's me?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Harry said, turning towards him again.

"Convenient," Draco said, turning away. "But how do I know you won't fuck off to 'find yourself' again? I asked you to stay, before..."

"I know you did. I'm sorry I couldn't stay then. I know you loved me....and truthfully, I had strong feelings for you, but I didn't know how strong, or how real," Harry said. "We were stuck in a bubble, Draco."

"We're not anymore," Draco said, his ire cooling.

"I know," Harry replied. "It's real life out here, and I'd like to spend it with you, if you like."

Suddenly Harry found himself with an armful of teary Draco, clinging to him as if he would disappear again should his grip slacken. "There's no one but you, there hasn't been...I..." He trailed off, struck dumb by the suddenness, the unlikeliness of the offer before him. He pulled back, resting his forehead against Harry's, breathing in the spicy, masculine scent he never thought he'd smell again.

"Do you really mean it? Are you going to stay?" Draco asked quietly, lifting his head to meet Harry's eyes, still as green and intense as the day he had left. "Don't break my heart again, Harry; I couldn't bear it."

"I'm here to stay, Draco, if you'll have me," Harry said with a smile. "Shitty weather or not." Draco laughed, his smile so wide it was almost painful.

"I love you, Draco Noirci," Harry said seriously, looking deep into Draco's eyes. "I've missed you terribly, and I'd fancy a kiss, if you're willing," he added.

"I love you, too," Draco replied, beaming at him and wrapping his arms around Harry's neck, letting one hand wander into insanely messy hair while the other clung to one strong shoulder. He captured Harry's mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, letting loose two years of aching want in one go.

~*~


End file.
